"What's the prognosis?" Your Majesty's expression was incredibly grim.
Sophie Wexler was the Empire's chief Healer and its only SSS-class one. She had not only slowed the progression of his illness but also saved his child.
She had also saved countless soldiers of the Empire, relieving the pain in their Spiritual Seas.
For her to end up like this... it was all for the Empire. If she couldn't be saved, how could he possibly face Cillian Forrest? How could he face the millions of citizens of the Empire and all those soldiers?
"The worst-case scenario," the Medical Master began hesitantly, "is that the Chief Healer just keeps sleeping like this."
To keep sleeping like this meant she would never wake up again.
Everyone knew this was the most likely outcome, but no one dared to say it to the Marshal.
Your Majesty looked up, his gaze cold as he stared at the Medical Master.
